Helga's Rainy Day Surprise
by AnakinJY
Summary: Helga is 18, finishing up high school and working at WalMart with Sid when she gets a surprise.  Post-TJM.  One-shot.  Mild swearing.


The rain pours down on me. Just. Continuous. Pouring. But I'm tired of running. I'm tired of trying to avoid the inevitable rain of my life.

So I sit in the WalMart parking lot. I lean my back against the building and let the rain pour down on me.

"Helga?" Sid says, "What are you doing?"

I glare, "What does it look like I'm doing, Phallus Face?"

"It looks like you're being a bitch in the rain. Come on. It's time for you to start your shift." Sid walks over me, and puts his umbrella over me while I stand up. It reminds me of when I met Arnold. "This weather makes you miss him, huh?"

"Everything makes me miss him." I link arms with Sid. "He keeps writing." "What does he say?"

"I don't know. I don't read them."

Sid sighs, "Helga…sometimes you're just dumb. And late." He adds after looking at his watch.

"I hate this job. Who gives a shit if I'm late?"

"As your manager, I do."

"You're not a manager, Phallus Face, you're a CSM trainee. And no one cares what a WalMart CSM trainee thinks. So no one cares."

As much at it pains me to say this, I work for WalMart. Sid is my soon-to-be boss, once we graduate. But Sid and I have gotten pretty close through this job. "Well, someone cares about me. You'll be seeing him tonight."

"I don't care about your boyfriend, Sid."

Sid chuckled, "Oh, he's not my boyfriend. But get inside to work, Pataki, I'm going to light one up."

"Enjoy, Phallus Face."

"Oh, and Helga?"

"What?"

"You really should read Arnold's letters. You might miss something important if you don't."

Sid normally tries to push me like this. It's never been about Arnold though. It's normally: "Helga, you really should submit something to a publishing house." or "Helga, you really should be nicer to Rhonda." Bullshit like that. But I run inside and clock in. The sales associate in Home hands me a towel as I make my way to the register. I use it to try myself a bit so I'm not dripping.

I definitely don't appreciate Sid telling me what I should do when it comes to Arnold. He doesn't get it. Or me, for that matter. I haven't read Arnold's letters because I haven't written him back yet. Well, that's not entirely true. I've written him back hundreds of letters…but I've never sent any. I promised myself that I would respond to his first letter before I read any new letters. I thought it would be like a motivator. I was wrong.

"Late again, Helga?" Lisa asks.

"Always am, you know that, Lisa."

"I know." She sighs, "Look, Helga, some of the higher-ups are really coming down on me on your constant tardiness. I tell them that you're worth it because you're surprisingly good with customers and you're so damn quick, but they aren't having it any more. You can't be late tomorrow."

I roll my eyes, "Yes ma'am."

"Register 8, Helga." Lisa says. Lisa is a short, overweight blonde with a short Ellen Degeneres hair-cut. Most of the time she's a great CSM. Even tonight she was just following orders. She knows how much I need this job. She feels bad because she can relate to me. Her mom was an alcoholic, she had a star athlete big brother, and an emotionally-distant dad.

I open up register 8. It's a Sunday so it's pretty busy. A couple hours go by and I barely even realize it because of how many customer's I have. We slow down around 9, which gives me enough time to actually begin cleaning.

I finish cleaning my register. Too bad I can't listen to my Zune. I'm stuck listening to some bogus 80's and 90's soft-rock station. Thanks a lot, Sid. I begin searching for my broom and dustpan when I feel something wet and sticky hit the back of my neck. A spit ball falls on the ground. Gross. Now I know how Arnold felt… Dammit.

I turn around and see some stupid 10 year olds sitting on the bench. They just stare me down, which I, of course, take as a challenge. I just stare them down too. The smallest one nudges the bigger one whispers "Stop it." or something.

The bigger one rolls his eyes and begins talking to the other two. I scoff, "That's right boys, nothing to see here." I mutter to myself.

I grab my broom and begin sweeping up register. It's quite quiet, which means I can really hear the damn radio. _"That I put down in words, how wonderful life is now you're in the world." _I roll my eyes, angry that I know all the words to this song…I like Moulin Rouge, okay?

I begin singing, loudly "_I sat on the roof, and I kicked off the moss, well, some of these verses, well the got me quite cross. But the sun's been kind, while I wrote this song. It's for people like you who keep it turned on. So, excuse me forgetting, but these things I do. You see I've forgotten if they're green or if they're blue. Well, you see the thing is, what I really mean, is that yours are the sweetest eyes, I've ever seen." _I hear snickering behind me. It's probably those no good punk-ass kids, so I ignore it. No one can get between me and this song right now. _"And you can tell everybody, that this is your song…" _Another spit ball hits the back of my neck.

"God dammit!" I yell and spin around to confront these damn little kids.

But I don't see kids. I see a tall teenage boy with an oblong face and blonde hair that falls into his green eyes…

"Arnold?" His name is stuck on my lips, it's all I can say. "Arnold… you're…you're Arnold."

He steps toward me, "Yeah, sorry about the spit ball, I saw the little kids do it and it reminded me of when we were kids. I always wondered what it felt like…to do that."

"You're here."

"I told you I was coming back in my last letter."

I feel my face burn up in a blush. "I didn't read your letters."

"Why?"

"Because maybe I had better things to do than pine after someone who was thousands of miles away." I snap bitterly. I can't help it, I don't want to say these things.

Arnold just looks at me, I see the pain on his face and I hate myself for it. I hate myself for not running into his arms and giving him the kiss I've been longing to give him for five long years. "Well, I guess that…I shouldn't have expected you to just wait for me. Especially since you didn't write me once." He says with a bit of anger in his tone.

I scoff, "I'm not just that weak little misguided girl you left five years ago, Football Head."

"Helga,"

"No, Arnold, listen, when you left I fell apart. The only good thing in my world was ripped away…so, I had to make myself stronger."

"You've always been strong, Helga. That's why I love you. You're the strongest person I know. I still love after five years of not talking to you. After five years of writing to you from San Lorenzo and awaiting your reply, only to get nothing. Even though you hurt me by not writing, I still love you. I only wish that you felt the same way."

It's silent for a while. It's like we're not even in the place I come to every day. Even when he and I are fighting, it still feels like we're all alone.

"I wrote you." I say, weakly.

"I never got any replies."

"I wrote you every single day."

"Bullshit."

"What you need proof? 'Cause I have the letters. Every. Single. One. All one thousand six hundred and fifty two of them."

Suddenly Arnold wraps his arms around me, "Why didn't you send any of them?"

"I don't know. They weren't good enough. They…they meant that you were really gone." My tears dampen his shirt, "I promised myself I wouldn't read any of your letters until I replied to one…I thought it would be like motivation. It was just torture."

Arnold breaks away a little bit, "I meant what I said, Helga. I still love you. And I don't expect you to just drop everything and pick up where we left off, but I needed you to know that I still love you. I hope that you still love me."

I move my hand to the back of his head and pull his lips toward mine. The kiss is slow and sweet but powerful. It seems like it's been forever, but it just seems like yesterday too. "Of course I still love you, dumb ass. How long are you here for?"

"As long as you want me here. I'm going to go to Hillwood University, Phoebe told me you were going there."

I nod. I brush my fingers across his face. "Good." I say.

"What?"

"I was just making sure you're real. You are. Even my dreams aren't this nice to me." We begin kissing again.

"Pataki! Cut it out or clock out." Sid yells from his register.

I grab Arnold's hand, and start heading towards the back to clock out, "Later, Sid!"

"Goodnight you two love birds!"

Instead of glaring at him like I normally would, I just giggle.

For the first time in a long time, I don't need to run away from anything…I'm perfectly content spending my time enjoying this.

"So, what are we going to do, Helga?"

"Everything," I smile brightly.


End file.
